I suspect that Tripp may already be on a train, in a plane, or riding a bike made in Spain toward LA, as it seems the Portman is now single. Sorry, Roxy. To which I have to add:

Have you seen her in this video?

todd and i are … strained right now.  it's really kind of awful and i have a perpetual pit in my stomach, even here, at the beach, on vacation.  the week i was in SF, his grandmother died.  she'd been pretty sick the week and a half before i left and i debated not going.  he wouldn't hear of it.  as a result, i wasn't around during what was a really tough time, and i feel bad.  i also think he begrudges me being gone, even though he said there was no way i should stay.  i don't feel like we are communicating very well and at the beach with parents and a kid and dogs around isn't the best place for big talks.  

i really need things to balance back out.

I'm rocking the Burial album "Untrue" this morning for the 100th time. It might not be your cup of tea (let's say its downtempo ambient dubstep, as if such a thing exists [hint: it doesn't]), but it feels right this morning. The sun is hazy, the sky is filled with smoke. The fires all around here keep burning. Outside smells like smoke.

I'm sad this morning and I don't really know why. I was sad last night, too, so I'm sure some of it is residual.

I spoke to Petunia the other day about her trip out here. Then we deviated a bit and spoke about Rachael heading off to Harvard in August. She said that I hadn't posted much about it on here, which I suppose is semi-true. But the whole topic isn't one I have been super thrilled with typing about and it's not something I feel like is anyone else's business.

But I realized yesterday that I haven't typed up many personal stories in a while. All of my drama with R happens between us now and I don't often feel the need to type it up as a way of working through it.

Most of my feelings these days revolve around my relationship with her and the future, which is a terrible place to be. I've heard everyone's assurances and condolences. Which is all the more reason not to discuss it — I don't believe anyone can add much to the dialogue in my head. I don't believe she and I are approaching this all in an optimal way; there are days where things are perfect, followed by days of stress and tenseness that totally freak me out. Neither of us are standing on firm enough ground to be able to offer the other the perfect support we would like. Which just ends up freaking each of us out in other ways. The fun never stops!

So yeah, I'm trying not to think too much about the future, trying not to let it crush me or wear me down. And that's going pretty well mostly. But just juggling the day-to-day has become more difficult. I didn't realize the amount of stress this would cause — we are still 8 weeks off.

It'll work out, everything always does. But at the moment I'm not enjoying the journey quite so much.

Because I do love to post the awesome craigslist ads, here is another one in the series for your enjoyment (parts 1, 2 and 3):

KERMIT SEEKS PIGGY

(via mightygodking)

Written on March 12th. Held until things became a bit more clear…

I'm typing this knowing it might be thrown away. But you're reading it, which means it wasn't. Congrats.

Roxy, after a long string of success, didn't get into Berkeley. She got in loads of other places, but not in our backyard. This, obviously, creates some complications. Her top choices are on the East Coast. And I'm at a loss. I know all the options here; I know all the variations, choices, decisions.

And not a one is good.

The most likely choice means I stay here, she goes. Two years.

I can't really process this. I'm sitting here on the train, thinking about options, thinking about time, communication, even my budget. You don't live with someone for 2.5 years and then look forward to taking that step backwards.

I know she is beside herself. I'm not doing much better, though I get the (oft-worn these days) pleasure of wearing the objective hat as well as the subjective cap. I play her personal cheerleader, letting her know everything will be fine. And, at the same time, I get to deal with my own freak-outs and insecurities and worries. It's that second cap that doesn't get to be worn around her terribly often, lest I somehow discourage her or have her begin thinking that being with me takes complete precedence over getting a degree she totally and completely wants.

Of course, this is some form of belly-aching. The schools she has to choose from are prestigious and excellent. I've already joked that she and my sister will shortly be showing me up. It all could be much worse, it always could. But right now, that's a small consolation.

How is this going to impact our relationship?

And equally frustrating is that this is all 5 months off. We have 5 months now to stare down that barrel, to freak ourselves out, to make ourselves sick. I want to make the most of the time; it's suddenly like we are on borrowed time.

And thinking that made me smile. It made me smile because it reminds me of how I felt after being sick — we are all on borrowed time. And change is good. And necessary. And, in the end, it will all work out.

I know Chris Davis did it for years, Seattle to NYC. I already know there are non-stop flights from San Jose to the 2 cities she is looking into.

How badly do I want her? Badly enough to find some way to make this work. And to keep growing in every positive way I can think of.

And, to be honest, I had my fears about her staying here as well. 1 grad student + 1 person working 9-5 does not make the easiest schedule. Whether she was here or not, I would be putting my life on hold in some way anyway.

Sigh.

It's going to be ok. I just don't want to feel the stress.

The other day, Becca suggested that I was having my mid-life crisis early. As in, right now. She saw it as me asking big questions about life, flailing around, trying to make sure I have a place. Then she suggested that maybe all I needed was babies.

It could be a thrisis. But I think I know the real reason, partially pointed out to me by reading 'Stumbling on Happiness' (more on this later):

I have lost an extraordinary amount of control in my life in the last 6 weeks. And, unsurprisingly, that's about the time that the notion of happiness began to consume me so completely.

There is more to this fact but: it is looking likely that Rachael will be spending two years on the Easy Coast in school. I will be here.

About 6 weeks ago, there was a not insignificant re-architecting of code at work and the code and knowledge that was mine became not mine. It had nothing to do with me, the quality of my work nor anything like that. It was what needed to happen for the application. My tour of duty ended.

Boom.

Suddenly, I find myself obsessed with re-decorating our apartment. And it's taken me a week to figure out why: it's an easy place/way for me to regain some control in my life.

Figuring this out, seeing it all connected like this should mean something? It's that first step, right? Well, yes. I've scheduled a meeting today at work to see how I can better get some focus, some control back there. Rachael will have a decision soon, so that can at least be dealt with. And I will keep decorating the apartment.

Still, what a pisser, eh?

Reed asks me to snuggle with him tonight at bedtime and I relent. Bekah's been a bit high maintenance this evening and Reed hasn't gotten much in the way of quality time. He's telling me about his day at school, how he got into a tiff with one of his little girl friends because he wanted her to sit next to him at the end of the day and she didn't want to. I told him sometimes, the more we want a girl to do something, the less likely it is that she'll do it; the more we chase, the faster they run. Next time, just ask her if she'd like to sit next to you. If she does, great. If not, tell her that's okay, too. 

"…and it's like that with Cassidy, too."

"Yeah?"

"She's a girl, too."

"Oh. I see. And what do you think about girls?"

Slight pause.

"They're pretty cool."

Then, from under the covers: pweeeet!

"Do you know what that sound was?" he asks with a giggle.

"Yes. That was you, passing gas."

"Yep!"

That's my boy.